Finding Mr. Right

“Fine. Next time, I want you to lead the applause for her. Got it?”

“Yes, I will. But I don’t like the idea.”

Byron put Andy back in the chair and went up to his room. A search of the yellow pages in the telephone book gave him a choice of several gourmet restaurants, and he chose one. After ordering, he showered and dressed in black jeans, a T-shirt and black sneakers and went downstairs.

He handed his son the book he’d bought earlier. “Let’s read, Andy.”

“What’s the story about?”

“Important people who lived in Frederick long ago.”

“Good. I’m going to read slow, so I’ll remember it and I can tell it at school tomorrow.” The boy read the picture story in about fifteen minutes. “I love the story, Dad.”

Andy loved reading. Indeed, the boy had a sizeable library of books. It was becoming difficult to find new ones that challenged his skills. I’m going to have to start writing stories for preschool children, Byron said to himself. “If I get Andy’s imagination to working, it should be fun.”

At five-thirty, he rang Tyra’s doorbell, and, to his disappointment, Darlene opened the door. “Hello, Darlene. Are you the Cunninghams’ official doorman?”

“Hi, Byron. I think I detected a bit of sarcasm. Who do you want to see? Tyra or Clark? Clark’s in Baltimore.”

“Darlene, give me a little credit. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have a reason. Do you mind if I come in and wait for Tyra?”

“Sure. Something tells me that I get on the wrong side of you without trying.”

“Darlene, I told you I was expecting Byron at five-thirty.” Tyra walked in. “Hi. I’m sorry, Byron.”

He leaned over, kissed Tyra’s cheek. “It’s all right. We’ll make up for it.” Tyra cast a glance in Darlene’s direction, took Byron’s arm and ushered him out of the house.

“Do you realize I’ve never been to Gambrill Park?” she asked him as he opened the front passenger door for her. “And I’ve lived here all my life.”

“Something tells me that, when you were a teenager, you didn’t do much dating.”

“You’re right. I didn’t. I was seventeen when we lost our parents, and responsibility for my siblings and our home fell to me. I was scared to death of setting a bad example.”

He got in the car, eased his arm across her shoulder and turned to her. “I’ve waited all day for the greeting that Darlene deprived me of.”

She turned to him, snuggled closer and parted her lips. Heat plowed through him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth. He knew he should stop, but when he attempted to pull away, she clung to him. He braced his hands on her shoulders and eased her away from him. Her face bore a dazed expression.

He held her as close as he dared. “It’s still daylight, sweetheart. We could draw quite a crowd.” He’d meant it to be funny, but she didn’t smile. “What is it, Tyra? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I guess. I suppose I’m only now learning who I am. I surprise myself sometimes when I’m with you.”

Her words brought an inward smile and gave him a feeling she would never understand. If he was the man to teach her who she was, nothing would please him more. He knew she wasn’t an innocent. A woman without any sexual experience wouldn’t relate to a man as she did. But she’d missed something, and he couldn’t wait to fill the void.

“Don’t think you haven’t shown me a different side of myself. The good thing is that I like who I am with you,” he said, as he headed out Yellow Springs Road to Gambrill Park. “I’ve already picked out a space for us. It’s close enough to the bandstand, but far enough to protect the eardrums.”

After parking the car and locking it, he took a wicker picnic basket and a shopping bag from the trunk, walked with her to a big boulder and put the basket on it. “This boulder will not only make a great table, it’s a good back rest.”

“What’s in that?” she asked, pointing to the shopping bag.

“A blanket to sit on, and two longs-sleeved shirts, one to protect your arms from the mosquitoes and the other to protect mine. I also brought along some repellant. Mosquitoes hate that.”

He spread the blanket and sat down beside her. “Would you put your head on my shoulder for a few minutes?” he asked her. “I’m not rushing you, but I’d like you to be a little closer.” He was still hot from her kiss in the front seat of his car.

She did as he asked and put one arm around his back and the other across his chest. “I could go to sleep right here,” she said, her voice low and inviting.

“Tyra, you don’t want me to rush, so don’t feed my imagination with statements like that.”

“It was an innocent remark. What time does the music start?”

“It started when you appeared at your foyer.”

When the sound of musicians tuning their instruments reached their ears, Byron handed Tyra a copy of the evening program and opened his own. “You read it to me,” she said. “I’m too comfortable to move, and I’d have to let go of your waist.”

He read it to her and added, “We’re in luck, or at least I am. I love Italian baroque chamber music.”

“Me, too. The problem is that it puts me right to sleep.”

“We’ll have our picnic in a few minutes. I don’t suppose you can eat and sleep at the same time.”

She kissed his neck, and he wished she’d warned him. “I guess not. I don’t remember ever dreaming about food. And that’s weird, because I love to eat.”

He covered the boulder with a blue tablecloth, set the table with the matching plates and utensils the caterer supplied and placed their food on it.

“This is wonderful, Byron. A feast beneath the stars in a fairy-tale environment, listening to beautiful music in the company of a man who is literally a heartthrob. If I act a little giddy, who could blame me?”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t expect me to behave when you talk like this.” He held a glass of white wine to her lips. “I’ve been drunk on you since the minute I first saw you. If you keep talking like that, I’ll start staggering.” It was all right to joke and tease, but he was serious. “Tyra, I asked you if there was a man in your life, and you said that there wasn’t. Will you give me a chance to be the man in your life?”

She seemed taken aback. “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

“No, not yet.”

“If I know up front what your motive is I might cooperate.”

“Fair enough.” He swatted the side of his neck to discourage an offending mosquito. Then he opened the shopping bag and took out the shirts he’d brought.

“Thanks. You’re a very thoughtful man.”

“If you give me a chance, Tyra, I’ll always take good care of you. Always.”

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